


The Ink in Our Stars

by Ladyhydrangeas



Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Smoking, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2018-07-21 21:06:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7404730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyhydrangeas/pseuds/Ladyhydrangeas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam has found the man that he wants to get his space tattoo from. He has researched, he has studied. He has even taken the effort to travel half way around the world to see this mans design in person. </p><p>He was not expecting Nigel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Messier 51

**Author's Note:**

> My addition to SpaceDogs Summer collection. I am really excited to explore this ship as I continue writing this. More tags to come once the story gets underway.

Adam shifts slightly, awkwardly. He had been planning this excursion for months; almost a year now. His research was impeccable; mountains and mountains of loose leaf papers stacked high in his roomy apartment in New York. Reviews upon reviews of customers from the top tattoo artists in the world. All of whom do not live in the United States. There was one woman in Russia who specialized in watercolor techniques for her tattoos. They were nice looking, but not what he was aiming for. 

Not what he wanted.

Another artist reached their fame by the abstract discord they would artistically and permanently place on someones skin. Adam admitted to not understanding a single thing about those styles. It almost seemed hopeless in finding someone who met all his requirements, but he desperately wanted this tattoo. It was calling out to him, singing and searing itself into every nerve on his body. 

Then there was Nigel. 

There was a certain fluidness to his work; unattachment. A certain way about what he did and how he did it that was very attractive to Adam. For one, no messy emotions tied in the the man's art. Most of the other artists he researched had deeper emotions sketched into them. Sadness, pain, happiness; it was all the same to Adam. It was all unnecessary. He didn't want to have something on his own body that displayed an emotion that he couldn't understand at any given moment. It wasn't logical. 

The other thing Adam noticed, was the way the man's tattoos seemed so simplistic and complicated at the same time; like a math problem. 

Adam rubbed at his forearm, cautious and feeling a bit overwhelmed by the idea that he had of flying over and visiting Nigel's shop himself, now that he was standing practically in their front door. The parlor wasn't what one would called Shabby; yet it wasn't what one would call new either. The place had a certain lived in and worked in air about it that talked more about Nigel's reputation than a yelp review ever would. Cluttered yet open in the areas where it counted. Adam could see that from the doorway. He took a step inside, letting his own thoughts wander as he looked around. The art on the walls were hyper-sexualized, sparking a general feel of arouse. Couches that were sat on one to many times and frying at the ends of them, laid underneath the art in all their holey glory. So it was a waiting room of sorts, Adam observed. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden noisy huff that caused him to jump. "Do you have a fucking appointment? I don't recall penciling anyone in." 

Adam could feel a shiver rising up his spine at the roughness of the voice. The smell of cigarette smoke filled his nostrils as he turned around to face the man. "I want a tattoo." Adam tilted his head. "That is what you do. I did not know you had to draw someone for a tattoo to happen. It sounds like more work than it is worth." 

Nigel stared incredulously at the other, giving the man a once over. His accent was different that others in Romania. So he was a tourist. Fucking fantastic; tourists never paid well for a damn thing. They always expected to highest form of fucking service and that was something Nigel wasn't about. He made great Tattoos, not catered to the fucking whims of whiny ass visitors from lands far away. The man before him was cute though...Big blue eyes that looked absolutely hopeless and lost but somehow also had a curiosity that sparked something deeper within Nigel's gut. 

"Darling it was an expression." Nigel spoke lightly, airily. "Since you are here, what can I do for you. I assume a Tattoo. I have some time before the evening." Money was money after all. "Not my normal fucking business hours but we can make due. Charging you extra for the inconvenience." He paused when the man before him scrunched up his nose in confusion. "What?"

"My name isn't darling. It's Adam." Adam blinked slowly, looking at the mans arm while the other talked. He had a whole tattoo sleeve; each design swirling over the other. There was one that stood out from the rest. It was deep blue, with yellow sparkling dots glittered through out the space. They formed a pattern, white ghosts of ink floating around them to spiral into a whirlpool. Adam found himself striding over to the man, grabbing his arm to get a closer look. 

Nigel smirked. "Like it? made the whole sleeve myself and forget about the nickname sweet-"

"Its not correct."

Nigels smile fell. "What the fuck?"

"The tattoo is incorrect. Its a tattoo of the Messier 51 galaxy but the colors are all wrong. There should be a lighter blue mixed in with the white. The swirls aren't separated wide enough compared to the size of it on your arm. Did you know its the largest in its small groups of galaxies? You can see it here on this planet if you are looking at a dark enough sky when the moon isn't reflecting the suns rays."

"You need to slow the fuck down." Nigel placed a hand on the others shoulder which was immediately shaken off stiffly, the other stopping his words immediately with those wide and helpless looking eyes again. "Sweetheart its just a fucking gorgeous group of stars." He happened to be staring up at the sky one night while drinking right after a particularly nasty and yet invigorating high. "No need to get so uptight over it." He moved his hands back, stepping away from the other even though it was the man that had made the steps towards him in the first place. 

Adam felt the dire need to huddle among himself to get a better grip on his senses. He could feel his muscles seizing up, ready to go into full blown shaking right in the middle of this establishment. He had done something wrong. He was always doing something wrong; even though he didn't understand what it was. Harlan wasn't here to tell him what he was doing wrong. Beth wasn't going to be around to tell him what he was doing wrong anymore either. A feeling of falling into a never ending pit overtook him as he scrambled for something to say. 

"It was just wrong. I wanted to tell you that it was wrong so you would know."

Nigel quirked an eyebrow at the mans reaction. Normally people would apologize. They would say they were sorry and he would just kick them out of his parlor anyways. He didn't need anyone fucking criticizing him or his work; and yet, there was just something about this whole situation. For whatever god damn reason, it didn't feel like this man was really criticizing him....Like maybe what the other was saying was right. He just really wanted Nigel to know that it was not correct. He breathed out a sigh, stubbing his cigarette against one of the wooden counter tops, flicking it over to his side of the room to be swept up later, and ran a hand through his sandy colored hair. 

"My name's Nigel. What the fuck do you want?"


	2. Messier 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There wasn't much that surprised Nigel anymore. Not with the life he lived. Everyone had their stories to tell, to impress others with. Some truths, most lies."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a bit longer to update this than originally intended. Radio Times TV Champion poll took up most of my life for the two weeks Hannibal was competing in it. Very happy to get back to this story though and very proud of the amazing job Fannibals had done in the polls! 
> 
> Still not entirely sure how long I want this fic to eventually be. Maybe 5 chapters...We shall see
> 
> Messier 101: Pinwheel Galaxy. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pinwheel_Galaxy

"A Tattoo" Adam looked at the man incredulously, wondering why he was asking that again after Adam had clearly said what he was here for previously. He was still feeling the shock and urge to flee instead of fight, but he stayed his ground. 

Nigel closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and thinking for a long moment. It was clear to him that this was a situation that the man hadn't faced before. Patience was they key here....it was just Nigel knew patience came thin for him. Gaby was better suited for such a task...  
He scoffed under his breath, willing the thought away instantly. Wasn't his fucking fault she found herself infatuated with a fucking useless American. Lots of unresolved tension there. It was preferred to never speak of or think of it again. Instead he focused more of his guest. The man practically shivering in front of him without knowing it. "I know that. The shops not even opened yet completely. People usually don't come in until the evening. Want a fucking consultation now? Later?" He didn't do many walk ins in the daylight, usually they involved a more drunken nature late into the night after the bars kicked those sorry asses off their premises. The young man before him took a rather deep breath of air, new determination set in his eyes. It sent a rather strange shiver of anticipation through Nigel; a shiver that could have left him purring. It was only then that Nigel noticed the files clutched in the others hand. 

Adam centered himself, shoving the files out in front of him. Papers with images fluttered out of the manila carrier, landing on the ground gracefully. Nigel's gaze shifted from the slight flustered blush tinting the young mans cheek to the white edges that held photos of a swirling mass of stars not unlike the one on his arm. "Messier 51?" He smirked, bending down to grab a paper in full confidence. 

"Messier 101. Also called the Pinwheel Galaxy." Adam's breath rushed out on him in relief. This was something he could talk about. "The colors match more of the tattoo on your arm but the direction of the spirals would be off. The Ursa Major is located in this group of stars. First discovered in 1781 by a Pierre Mechan-" He stopped when a single hand was raised, calming down instantly. "I talk a lot." 

There wasn't much that surprised Nigel anymore. Not with the life he lived. Everyone had their stories to tell, to impress others with. Some truths, most lies. Yet the way the other just passed over the name Pierre, clinically with no attempt to try at an accent that the name clearly had...It threw him off just a bit. He hadn't met anyone who has said an accented name that way before. Curious. "Darling it isn't the talking, just give me a second to plan out. Should start with where you fucking want the Mess....Want the star tattoo." Whatever the fuck the man said..Messy-er? "Who the fuck are you anyways?"

He couldn't fucking believe he hadn't asked that yet. Nigel felt like he was slipping in his cautious demeanor when it came to this beautiful stranger that seemed otherworldly. Normally it was the very first fucking thing he'd demand of a person. 

"Adam. Adam Raki." Adam worried a frown upon his face, inquisitive. He had thought about the placement of the tattoo. More than anyone else he knew would, but the question gave him slight hesitation. "I need to be able to touch it," his hand drifted to his wrist, pointing to an area on his forearm. "Right here I think." He wanted to be able to trace the colors, rhythmic and soothing; or at least he thought it would be. 

Nigel grunted in affirmation. "Gonna take you more than one trip to see me, you know." He leaned against the front desk, arms crossed over his chest while rolling the idea of having another cigarette in his mind. "Right now we're having the consultation. A fucking walk in consultation at that, I don't have the time to start anything today." He noticed Adams features stilling. Strange for it to not be something that Adam had thought about....seeing as he fucking knew so much about random things already. "What, don't got a place to go?"

"No." Adam said it flatly, as if it was just a matter of fact to him. "I have a hotel but only for two nights." He didn't think it through. Should have researched more on how long it could have taken. Adam clenched his hands into fists at his sides, annoyed with himself over the mistake. He watched hawk-like as Nigel opened a small book that had been placed on the counter he was leaning against. The man huffed under his breathe, the air escaping through hi nose and mouth. 

"Tomorrows Friday. Fucking busy weekend it is to. Wont have time for you until Tuesday." Nigel gave Adam another once over, appreciating the view far more than he would admit to anyone. They didn't fucking need to know of his staring. "I've got an open room. You can stay with me." Might be a pain housing someone else; but hell if he got a good look at that piece of ass for the next couple days....Well he wouldn't fucking complain.

Adam stared at him for a long moment, judging the pros and cons to the offer given. Did he really have much of a choice though? It was rather a large sum to get a last minute plane ticket to begin with. That and the tattoo itself. His eyebrows scrunched up together again; fixing a wrinkle on his forehead as he tried to rationalize the reasons not to take up the offer which just ended up being: You don't know this person...but you are paying him for a tattoo so he cant really just go off and kill you if he wants to earn some money from this. Most people didn't carry out their internal thoughts of murder anyways. 

"Okay."


	3. Messier 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Macaroni and Cheese. 
> 
> The kid ate fucking macaroni and cheese for dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back. This past month has been CRAZY. Finished my essay for Hannibal fanstudies and then I got really sick. ;o; Still suffering from it but I finally am able to get back to all the writing that has been on the back of my mind. Its good to be back. :3 
> 
> Messier 1: The Crab Nebula

Adam spent the rest of their evening sitting down on the less holey side of the waiting room sofa. His bag that he traveled with sat directly next to him on the floor. The mans foot would tap against the canvas side of his bag from time to time creating a sporadic but chaotic pattern of noise.He was missing his evening routine; the need to accomplish it settling hot on the inside. It made his stomach knot up in anxiety. He felt twitchy, a small part of him wanted to just give in and go home. This was way to different from what he was used to. What he did daily and what he relied on for stability, seemed to have been thrown out the window. 

He hoped at the very least he would be able to eat macaroni and cheese with broccoli. It would be something. 

“What the fuck is wrong with ya?” Adam heard Nigel's incredulous tone and noticed the raise of a singular eyebrow as the other man stared down to Adam's foot. He stared at the other in return. It was obvious what he was doing, but Adam knew from experience that it wasn't what Nigel meant. He didn't know what the man meant though. That was the hard part about having Asperger's. Everyone expected others to understand what they meant, even if what they said wasn't what they were implying. Adam found that he hated that type of personality flaw among people the most. 

There must have been some look on his face, for Nigel ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply, outwardly. It was not of disappointment, Adam could tell. Sighs had different tones to them. Most sighs he would get from people would be disappointment, but this sigh was different. He chose to wait for the other to speak first. 

“You're not fucking dumb, I can tell. No one who knows what the fuck a bunch of fucking stars are in the sky can be called dumb. So what is your story? Why are you tapping your foot against your bag like that. Its really driving me up the fucking walls, darling.” 

Adam bit the corner of his lower lip, frowning at the words. Once again Nigel used those silly phrases that people use that just don't make much sense. This time though, he has had practice. Harlem always would ask what his story was when he wanted Adam to explain something. Usually it involved what had happened to him that day. Said it was used during times when people wanted something explained to them; either an emotion or an action or an event. Adam assumed it meant an action this time. 

“Im missing my daily routine.” He stated, letting his foot hit the canvas bag one more time before stopping it all together. “Right now I would be having dinner and I am missing it.” He knew it sounded silly to everyone else but him because he was told that by people countless of times. Adam was waiting for the same reaction when he looked back up towards Nigel only to feel unbalanced and taken a back by the intense gaze he faced. 

Nigel's gaze was inquisitive, the man in thought over the pieces of information given to him in the past couple of minutes. There was rather a lot to work through and briefly Nigel wondered why the man even fucking bothered doing something out of his nature if his routine if that routine meant so much to him. The man was practically freaking out, jittery and looking much more boyish than he had earlier. His eyes shifted over to a clock that was fastened on the wall, checking the time. There was still an hour and a half before the doors opened to the public for that night. Why the hell not.

“Dinner then.” Nigel moved from his spot, grabbing a pair of keys that seemed to be to the parlor doors. “There are some great fucking restaurants around here, quick too.” He eyed the other suspicously before lowering his arm. The kid looked like he was about to say something again, but was holding back. “What now?”

“I eat Macaroni and Cheese for dinner” Adam clenched his hands into fists at his sides. “Is there a convenience store around here instead?” 

Macaroni and Cheese. 

The kid ate fucking macaroni and cheese. 

Nigel clenched at his stomach in fits of laughter escaping him. He leaned against one of the red walls leading to the entrance doors, letting his shoulder bump with each laugh. He enjoyed Mac and cheese from time to time, who didn't? However, Adam said it with such a factual voice that it seemed as if the man ate the stuff everyday. It was a routine after all. Adam mentioned that. 

“That all you eat?” The words forced out through heaving gasps of air and stifled laughs in the exhales. 

Color un-intendingly dusted Adams cheeks. The man was laughing at him. “I dont understand why that is funny,” Adam huffed out, “Its food. Food is food. How is Macaroni and Cheese funny to you?” It was what he always had. Now he just wanted to kick something in his confusion. Anger flashed hotly in him, needing a release. There was no need to laugh at his choices! There was no need to question his routine. There was no need-

Adam turned around and began hitting his head against the back of the couch, grunting aloud his frustrations. The laughter behind him subsided. 

“Woah, woah kid. Stop that. Fuck! Stop!” Nigel briskly walked to his side, still shocked over the reaction. “Look I'm sorry okay? So just fucking stop that.” He gripped Adam by the shoulder, dragging the man back bumping his shoulder to Nigel's chest. He held on tight, letting Adam thrash about. What was going on? He could feel the mans hair scratching against the skin at Nigel's neck, his head fitting perfectly underneath Nigel's chin. They stayed like that for a few minutes until Adam calmed down enough to be able to hold conversations again. “We can go to the grocery store. There's one down the road.”

This kid was going to be the death of him, and he has only known him for maybe three hours.


	4. Messier 97

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was Nigel's home. He was sitting up in a guest bedroom that was too cramped for anything but Adam and his bed. Walls void of anything except for a single framed piece of art ; the black swirling pattern resembling something that Adam could see becoming a tattoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a few weeks since I have uploaded this. I admit I was having a bit of writers block there for a while! :) Its about to get really busy with the Holiday season coming up. I hope everyone had a lovely Halloween! Those from the USA Happy Thanksgiving next week! <3
> 
> Messier 97: The Owl nebula

Adam blinked blearily at the sounds of morning around him. A split panic seared through his entire being, shooting the man up out of bed. This was NOT his home and this was not the hotel he had placed himself in for this journey. There really was only one option left then. 

This was Nigel's home. He was sitting up in a guest bedroom that was too cramped for anything but Adam and his bed. Walls void of anything except for a single framed piece of art ; the black swirling pattern resembling something that Adam could see becoming a tattoo. His hands ran across the comforter he had been sleeping under, letting the rhythmic strokes sooth his frazzled mind. Thoughts started sorting themselves together. Pieces of information of the events from the previous night replayed in his mind. Somehow, someway they were able to find macaroni and cheese Adam would consider acceptable (which was pretty god sent, given the store they walked into). Adam ended up sitting back on his self proclaimed side of the sofa while he ate from the microwavable container that came with the meal. 

He had no real idealistic imaginings of staying up until Nigel was finished with his work; Adam curled up onto the sofas end. He was surprised however to wake up surrounded by the warmth of a blanket covering him. A Hand gently shaking him, and a voice that wasn't so gentle but soft. 

“Get up gorgeous. The shops closed now.” 

Those words echoed in Adams mind, leaving him feeling a tingle of warmth through out his being. It turned out that Nigel's apartment was just above the store; something Adam almost wished he knew about before hand about that small detail. The guest bed was admittedly more logical than the couch could have ever been. 

“I Told You I Will Have Your Fucking Money In The Next Week.” Nigel's voice raised in the tiny apartment, not yet a yell but loud enough for Adam to hear it. It caused him a moments pause, wondering to himself if it was going to be welcomed for him to peak out the room and ask what was going on. He frowned deeply at the sentence forcibly said. Adam quietly pulled on appropriate clothing for the day before opening the door silently and walking down the short hallway to show himself to his host for the next few days. Nigel was hunched over the kitchen counter, positively scowling down at a writing pad as his hand scribbled something down on its surface. There were a few mutterings of yes and no during that time before the man grunted in total exasperation, slamming the phone on the counter with an audible click. “For fuck sakes” 

“Scowling isn't an effecting way to release tension” Adam piped up, startling Nigel into swinging his head around. The mans hands immediately landed on the paper, hiding it from Adams view. Adam raised an eyebrow at that. “You don't have to share if you do not want to.” He shrugged halfly, moving to lean against the wall for some form of support.

Nigel's cheeks colored. From embarrassment or anger, Adam couldn't tell just yet. It took the other a moment to gather himself. The silence between them stilted and awkward. Awkward until a slithery sly smirk. “Nothing to hide beautiful. Just a fucking phone call with some unpleasant folks. Talking shop as they say.” He chuckled at Adams confused reaction, letting the pureness of the other seep into his being and drive out the more bitter conversation that he just experienced. Briefly thinking back to the previous day, Nigel kept a mental check of Adams more interesting traits. “You know gorgeous,” He moved back from his paper and the counter top, turning to take a coffee pot from its resting place. “You have an interesting pattern with your mannerisms. Ive seen it before.. kind of.” A kid he knew when he was little had the same issues. He vaguely remembered the other children picking and teasing him relentlessly. 

“Asperger's Syndrome” Adam tilted his head to the side just slightly. Nigel was only surprised by the suddenness of the answer for a split second. Given everything Adam has said or done in the mere hours of meeting him, he supposed it wasn't so surprising after all. The Syndrome surely made sense at least. It explained a hell of a lot of things. 

“Quick to reply,” Nigel teased, he poured his cup drinking it in one giant gulp. Nothing like a late night and a cup of caffeinated black sludge to keep the system running for another twenty hours. He caught the minute wince Adam provided, such an innocent that one was. Even adult coffee being something too strong for the little lamb. 

It made Nigel want to taint him. Made him want to show Adam the pleasures of sin and the ecstasy life could provide if one would only give into their darker more carnal desires. 

“Of course I was. It was not a secret.” Adam squinted, his nose twitching. He was confused as to why his reply would be anything significant in its readiness. “I have issues interpreting emotions though, that I suppose is a bit of a nuisance. Everyone expects you to understand what they say or mean-” He trailed off, blinking at the stare that Nigel was giving him. “Are you even paying attention?”

Nigel would have choked on his coffee if he hadn't had chugged it down before his little lamb started talking. That nose twitch was positively adorable. It caused the mans already boyish face scrunch up and appear even more lovely, pixieish. Nigel didn't even believe in fairy tales but he could rethink it if the man before him flew wings and flew out of his fucking window or something. 

Well now. 

Fuck him.


	5. Messier 76

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “NIGEL GET YOUR ASS-Hello” The front door slammed open, bell ringing shrilly; a woman stomping in as if she owned the place. Only pausing when she looked up to see another person there, the woman's eyes narrowed. “Alright who the fuck are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got this updated :D My birthday present to all of you! (lol) 
> 
> Messier 76: Little Dumbbell Nebula (cause nigel is a little dumb bell -cracks up at my own lame joke-)

Adam once again found himself on the holey and more comfortable than it actually looked, sofa that was stationed in the parlor waiting room. It was light outside again, just barely past noon. Nigel dragged him along under the guise of not being able to trust the kid fully even though Adam has tried to tell him a whole three times that he wasn't interested enough in anything in Nigel's home to steal. He just wanted his tattoo. 

That wasn't too much to ask for right?

A quiet click of a stereo system filled the space before notes and tunes from a song Adam didn't recognize overcame the stillness of silence. He could hear Nigel humming along to the tune while he grabbed a broom and dustpan, giving the area a once-over sweep-down, shaking his ass with maybe a little too much vigor, before he planed to flip the closed sign to open. Red chipped paint fell from the pillars that were sitting around for decorative purposes. They would need a repaint eventually. Once Nigel had enough time or money to afford closing for a night to do so. The wood flooring was scratched in some areas due to general lack of client carefulness. Heels and scuff marks from shoes more likely the culprit, though maybe a knife or two should be thrown into that explanation. Couldn't expect much from a drunk crowd. They only cared about where their next drink would be had or where on their bodies would they get their ink on and not regret it the next morning. 

“Got something to occupy your time? We're open tonight until like 2 am darling.” Nigel knew from experience that waiting for his work to be done was not the funnest of ways to pass the time. Gabby would find things to scroll past on her phone while they were in between clients. Her groans of boredness still echoed in the back of his mind distastefully. He definitely was not going to handle the mans same reactions if he found himself in a similar situation. 

He could entertain the idea of shutting up the mans groans with his mouth though. That was quite a pleasant idea he would surely think back on later in the evening. 

Adam frowned, “I didn't bring much but I wont be bothering you.” He sounded very sure of himself. If it truly got to be too much, he would just talk walk outside where the stars would welcome him. “Night has much to offer in terms of visual distraction.” He would just have to find a way to entertain himself until then. With his laptop in his bag, he doubted that it would be much of a problem. 

Nigel clicked his tongue in some form of affirmation. They had another meal set in the mini freezer and fridge that Nigel held in the back, a place that would usually only house his beer. They would be able to keep up with Adam's schedule that way and some part of Nigel was proud of that. It set a small warm fire inside him that slowly filled his entire being with heat. He smiled to himself. 

“NIGEL GET YOUR ASS-Hello” The front door slammed open, bell ringing shrilly; a woman stomping in as if she owned the place. Only pausing when she looked up to see another person there, the woman's eyes narrowed. “Alright who the fuck are you?” Her heel tapped impatiently on the floor, red hair cropped shorter than the last time Nigel had seen it. He frowned deeply at that. Adam squirmed under the attention of an unknown. He opened up his mouth to reply to her uproar before being cut off by Nige's own loudness. 

“What the fuck Gabby. You can't just fucking enter the shop anymore. You fucking left in the first place. No one asked you to fucking leave, Gabby. No one!” 

Gabby snorted, eyes challenging as she turned to her ex-fiance. “I wouldn't have to if I didn't have your issues knocking on my front door!” Gabby opened her bag, digging around it until she pulled our a small folder. The bag slumped to the ground when she was finished with it. She slammed the folder and its contents onto the front desk, narrowly avoiding a stack of receipts and a jar of paperclips that didn't quite seem to fit in with the rest of the room.

“Ive got these fucking morons wanting to know when you are going to give them the mone-UMPHHH” Nigel's hand clamped over her mouth, stopping the rest of the verbal attack. His eyes wild, Nigel dragged her away with only a single wave back to other man in the room. 

“We will take this in my office, Adam.” Gabby toyed with the idea of licking Nigel's palm, biting down hard on the heel of it to hear him yelp. Instead she capitulated allowing herself to be dragged into one of the tattoo rooms, and then being slammed up against the door before Nigel released his hand from her mouth. “You do not fucking speak to Adam, do you hear me,” He snarled. Gabby for one, was quite tired of the same old use of threatening to get what the other wanted. She rolled her eyes, looking around at the cluttered filled room. Drawings and sketches on papers littered desktop space, empty ink cartridges found themselves piled in a corner, left to stay there until their owner remembered that they were in fact trash to be tossed to the street. A file cabinet was hollowed out, to leave space for a makeshift shelf unit that was filled with needles and tools for the mans trade. 

Some things never changed. 

“Don't talk to him?? You want me to not fucking talk to him?” Gabby's eyes narrowed dangerously. Two can play Nigel's little game. “I wont if you just shut your fucking mouth and pay off the bastards for their drugs. Christ sakes you dumbass. What have you gotten yourself into!?” She raised her chin when the mans hands moved from either side of her face, to around her neck. “Oh yes, choking me is going to go over so well for you and precious Adam. He seems like the kind to be against this kind of stuff, unless of course he's more kinky in the bedroom than he looks.” She took a deep breath, continuing on her tirade. “You are going to pay those guys that you bought drugs from before the end of next week.” With that, she shoved his arms away, moving around the door she had been pinned against and walked out towards the back exit. 

Nigel waited a few moments, breathing rapidly to quell his anger. What Gabby had spoken about wasn't ignored by him, he found the threat behind it quite easily. 

Not good.


	6. Messier 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why the fuck was he concerned. Why the fuck wouldn't he be concerned. The man had a hell of a lot to be concerned about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been a while, sorry again! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. :) 
> 
> I'm currently looking at my stories and deciding which ones I want to drop. I plan to finish this one! My The Path one will more than likely get dropped. I dont know yet. 
> 
> Um lots of usage of the word "fuck" in this chapter, but hey it's Nigel so yeah. 
> 
> Messier 27: Dumb bell Nebula (because Nigel is a dumb bell in love)

Adam fidgeted around in his seat, hearing the low murmurs of yelling from the back room that was drowned out only be the walls between them. The woman knew Nigel, it was obvious. She was confident and stood her ground. Adam wondered about her. Wondered what her connection with Nigel could be or could have been. Could have been just seemed all the more likely. They hadn't been talking for terribly long before Adam could hear a door slamming, it echoed in the quiet of the room. Which surprised him. He hadn't realized until that point that the music from the radio had been turned off. 

Adam bit the side of his lip, thinking. It wasn't his issue, of course, and normally he wouldn't involve himself in the concerns of others. Everyone that has done that before, from what he has seen, has had results that different from their intentions. Yet Adam just couldn't help it. He was concerned. Now that he knew that, he continued to think upon it. The stack of papers in the file laid untouched on the desktop. The comfortable couch now felt to hot and lumpy. 

Nigel sighed and shuffled his way around the room, wanting more than anything to slam his fists into the wall. It was fucking ridiculous that he would have to face the gorgeous man in the waiting room after such a scene. Nerves in his body raced with adrenaline; he wanted to pick a fight. 

It was quite the common emotion he felt after dealing with Gabby now-a-days. 

First the call this morning and now Gabby's little visit. He had to admit to himself the debt he was meant to pay was approaching. Shame he didn't have the money yet. His mind categorized the body parts he could go without when he would eventually have to pay up in some form. Hopefully he wouldn't be too ugly. For Adam's sake. 

And honestly what the fuck was he doing thinking about that. This was not the fucking time nor the fucking place. A bitter laugh escaped him. The man was here for a fucking tattoo and then he was going to travel back to the country he came from and there was no way their little pathetic lives would ever cross again. Which was fan-fucking-tastic because now he felt the urge to hit the wall even harder. Life just sometimes wasn't fair and it sucked. 

“Shit!” Anger and frustrations shook him to the core. His hands clenched at his side. Damn that girl. Damn Gabby and her damn folder. The folder that was still in the front area...With Adam. 

“SHIT.”

The banging of a body slamming against the wall in a hurried rush could be heard. The rush of a man racing against his better judgments, reminding himself exactly where every corner, crack and unsettled tile grout was as he tripped his way to the front of his establishment. 

“Look, darling. Whatever you fucking do, do not-” Nigel's sentence died upon his lips. Eyes searching Adam up and down as the man stayed sitting. He hadn't moved. 

What a fucking relief. 

Nigel dove for the folder, gathering it up swiftly before shoving it precariously into a drawer where he hoped it would lose itself in the abyss. Adam had stopped chewing on his lip, staring at the other's movements. Such a bizarre exchange between the two of them. 

“What?” The tattoo artist demanded, body tense. “What the fuck are you looking at.” Deep down Nigel knew that wasn't fair. He should have cared more. The man in front of him had clearly not moved from his seat, and Nigel was starting to feel like a fool. I didn't bode well for anyone when Nigel started feeling like a fool. 

“I'm concerned.” Adams crisp voice broke through the inner turmoil that seeped down into Nigel's bones. He was...what? Concerned? Why the fuck was he concerned. Why the fuck wouldn't he be concerned. The man had a hell of a lot to be concerned about. Especially concerning was the want to lean over the younger one, caging him with Nigel's arms possessively, staring down at him as his body sunk back into the couch. 

“The fuck of it?” Nigel spat out instead. Finger tips tapped impatiently on the desk, edging closer to the drawer where the incriminating evidence of Nigel's lack of control was contained. “Want to run back home, away from the big bad wolf that fucking yells at women and swears when he can.” Wouldn't blame the gorgeous fucker either. Fucking damn it. 

“No. I want my tattoo.” Adam's reply was filled with confusion from the outburst. Well, it was better to just jump right into the topic than to dance around it. Adam wasn't much of a dancer. “I'm concerned about you.” 

Adam was pretty sure rendering Nigel speechless wasn't something that happened often. The blank stare proved that. It certainly wasn't what Adam had been planning on. He would have cursed to himself if he could. Maybe his meaning didn't come across with the intention he had. This was awkward and Adam did NOT do awkward. He started biting at his lip again. 

Surprised was truly an unimaginative way to describe how Nigel was feeling. Really, the man should have expected it. His fingers had stopped moving for now, palm flat against the desk surface. “Nothing to be concerned about, darling. I've got it figured out.” The words sounded strange to him. Strange and forced, they didn't settle the tension and awkwardness that had formed between the two occupants. 

“Its time to open up the shop.” 

It was all he could say.


	7. Messier 106

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was sketchy and looked nothing like the final outcome Nigel knew he was capable of. Yet this was one of his favorite steps. The start of the creativity cycle that was almost as helpful to him as the drugs he relied on. It was a process that Nigel found relaxing, letting his next choice or words slip from his mouth. “You want to talk, talk my fucking ear off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been a while.... I do apologize for that! I was busy organizing a convention and now it is the Holiday season at my work. I hope to update more frequently than the mini Hiatus I took without notice. 
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving to all Americans this week!

“I told you, I am not going to fucking tattoo a fucking rose on your god damn bicep and write the words 'Live long and live fucking free'” Nigel scowled at his customer, the frown on their face twisting Nigel's anger deeper. “Get a real tattoo or get the fuck out!” 

The door slamming, his not really customer storming out with a scream that she will never be back there again, was music to his ears. The scowl still lingered on his face as he took a deep breath and let the tension ease from its coiled nature. He calculated the number of people who came into his shop that day, thinking back to money gained and money potentially wasted. 

“Fuck all of this. I'm done with the lot of them today!” His feet thumped against the wood flooring as he stomped his way back to the front area, slamming the door and flipping his sign to closed. The sign held the words “Go the fuck away”, written in his messy scrawl with a permanent marker and underlined for the really stupid. All his other appointments could re-fucking-schedule for all he gave a damn for. 

Taking that moment to turn around, Nigel faced Adam. “Your lucky day gorgeous. I've got an opening due to some tragic cancellations.” He motioned with his hand for the other man to follow him down the hallway. “We can do a mapping out of the design and get started.”

Adam blinked, startled by the outburst and the results of said sudden decision. “You, Are you sure?” His face twisted into a look of confusion. “Closing up shop like that is a bad idea. It's not even that late.” Adam let his hand to be grabbed, Nigel closing his fingers around his wrist lightly before sliding his hand down further to connect them palm to palm. It sent a flash of heat to his cheeks, staining the skin red. Contact wasn't something Adam was used to often, people tended to shy away from touch when it came to people they couldn't understand. Fear of doing something wrong perhaps. 

Nigel seemed to be a man that was never unsure of his actions. 

 

“Its my shop and I'm calling it closed for today. Tired of dealing with the idiots.” Nigel quickly dragged both of them down to the last room. He only took a small amount of regret at the state of his workspace. Shoving back containers and cartridges from around the seat, he motioned Adam to sit down. The shared heat lingered on his finger tips, he fought the urge to caress Adam's wrist. There was work to be done. This man was here for a reason and he was going to leave as soon as his mission was accomplished. It settled poorly in his stomach, like ash or illness. 

Nigel humphed accordingly. Wanting nothing more than to banish the feelings he knew were rising up. Instead he was going to plan a tattoo on gorgeous flesh and try not to be an fucking idiot about it. 

Adam sat down upon the chair he was directed to, feeling the old pleather that was cracked in random places. It reminded him of a dentist chair, supposed in a way that it made perfect sense. He gazed around the room, taking everything in with his eyes. Colorful would be the first word that came to mind. Colorful and messy. Chaotic sort of genius that could only make sense to the owner of the space. 

Nigel did seem most at home in this room. Sketches were scattered about on scrap paper and walls. Bits and pieces of completed works or scribbles of emotions that ran through their makers mind were piled on every available surface imaginable. It smelled of ink, stale industrial cleaner, and the unmistakable smell of Nigel himself. A smell that Adam became quite acquainted with over the past few days from being in such close proximity to the other. Still a little unbelievable and completely astonishing to the man himself. A click on a marker being up-capped shook Adam from his thoughts. The smell of permanent marker, sudden and unwelcoming, overwhelming the lighter scents. He turned his nose up at it, a grimace quickly suppressed. Nigel took his wrist again. His focus like steel, zeroing in on the canvas that Adam's arm provided. 

The vision stole the breath right out of Adam's lungs. 

“So the forearm, You are sure about this?” Nigel looked up briefly, not accustomed to asking one of his clients about their potentially job breaking or fucking stupid ass decisions. It was money for him. Not his fault if they wanted to regret it later. 

Not that Nigel thought that this was a stupid or job breaking decision for Adam. The man seemed way too smart to have not thought about it and given it what was probably a infuriatingly logical explanation. Still, there was something deep down inside himself that wanted to really make sure. 

“Yes” Adam squinted adorably, concentrating on Nigel's face as if he was looking for some kind of answer there. “Why do you ask? I've read that forearm tattoos do not stretch like other tattoos can do when you get older. It also is said to not hurt as much as other places could. I haven't been able to test that out myself of course but It means that I can see it practically” He trailed out, stopping has he took in a breath. “Right need to stop,yeah.”

“Never would tell you to stop gorgeous.” Nigel started swirling the marker on pearl white skin, leaving its trail in black. A few lines spiraling out from a central point that was soon connected with little uncolored orbs that looked as if they were dancing. It was sketchy and looked nothing like the final outcome Nigel knew he was capable of. Yet this was one of his favorite steps. The start of the creativity cycle that was almost as helpful to him as the drugs he relied on. It was a process that Nigel found relaxing, letting his next choice or words slip from his mouth. “You want to talk, talk my fucking ear off.” 

Adam inhaled deeply in surprise. No one, aside form his dad and Harvey, had ever said anything like that and seemed to mean it. Not with such non-nonchalance. It struck a nerve in Adam. A warm feeling simmering through his veins. Such a simple admittance and it meant so much now. He was stunned into silence, squirming in a pleased gesture that invoked a chuckle from the artist. The mans hand that wasn't holding the marker, tightened his grip slightly. 

“I can't do this if you keep moving around, love.”


End file.
